


Miles

by tiptoe39



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Autumn, Cape Cod, First Kiss, M/M, New England, Road Trips, Scenery Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 03:04:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11568987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiptoe39/pseuds/tiptoe39
Summary: Nursey and Dex go for a drive. Half a fic, half a love letter to Cape Cod.





	Miles

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the anon who left me the prompt. 
> 
> Emetophobia cw (it's discussed, it doesn't happen in the fic).

The miles are disappearing behind them, and the wind is whipping by the open window. Dex feels it on his face, the brisk chill of a New England autumn. Beneath the bridge, lake water glistens with the reflected red-orange of leaves and sunset. It's everything familiar and comfortable, but the car purrs beneath him, and contentment burns gentle candlelight within him. He never thought he'd be here, and he never thought Nursey would be the one beside him. But somehow everything is perfect.

* * *

  
Nursey shows up the morning after Thanksgiving in Dex's driveway, the car burning fire-red behind him. "Yo Dex," he stage-whispers at Dex through the kitchen window, "come for a ride."  
  
Dex trips over toys on the floor and nearly wakes up three uncles sleeping in the living room before he makes it to the front door. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Nursey nods back toward the car. "Nice, huh?"  
  
And it is nice, low and sleek and gleaming all over. Not the kind of car Dex pictured Nursey driving, or even liking, but there he is, looking proud and puffed up.  
  
Dex squints in the morning sunlight, shivers in the chill. "I thought you were in Boston for Thanksgiving."  
  
"Drove up this morning." Which must have been an early start, for Nursey to get all the way to Maine. At least two hours. But somehow Nursey makes improbable things happen. Like the fact that he and Dex are still sharing Lardo's old room in the Haus, three months into the school year. Dex never saw that happening, but Nursey's strangely easy to live with. It's as though, now that they're always in each other's space anyway, Nursey no longer feels the need to set Dex off every other second. Things are better. Things might even be good.  
  
But getting up at ass-o'clock in the morning, driving up to Maine, just to show off to Dex? It's not just improbable, it's utterly ridiculous. So ridiculous, in fact, that Dex forgets the barrage of questions that are building up behind his tongue and laughs. "All right," he says, "all right. Only, I'm driving."  
  
"What?" Nursey gives him that hangdog look.  
  
"You've been driving for the past two hours, Nurse. Give yourself a break."  
  
Dex steps back into the house, scribbles a note on the memo pad by the refrigerator, and grabs his phone. He tiptoes through the living room, a current of excitement building up inside him. Sneaking away from his family. Sliding behind the wheel of a fancy car. Driving just to drive. Yeah. This could be good. This could be cool.  
  
The leather of the seat beneath him feels like a sin. Dex runs a hand over the gearshift, lays his other hand on the steering wheel. "Jesus."  
  
"Right?" Nursey, settling into the passenger seat, grins. "I don't have to bring it back 'til tomorrow."  
  
"How'd you get it?"  
  
"My cousin in Boston."  
  
"And he just let you drive off with it?"  
  
" _She_ ," and Nursey leans on the word, "is a generous soul."  
  
"Hm." Dex searches for the key, but there is none. A push-button ignition. He's never been in a car like that, and the thought is strangely thrilling. "Where should we go?"  
  
"Dunno. The Cape?"  
  
Dex nearly chokes. "That's like a three-hour drive."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So, aren't you sick of being in the car?"  
  
"In _this_ car? Come on."  
  
Nursey has this way of smiling that always makes Dex feel dumb. Like Nursey's in on a joke that he's never going to explain. But Dex learned long ago that the best way to get back at him for that was to not respond. So Dex just shrugs and says, "OK, the Cape."

* * *

  
Dex is transfixed by the handling of the car, the way it growls beneath him like it's not quite tamed, like it's very reluctantly putting its trust in Dex and Dex alone. Any minute it could change its mind, knock Dex right out of the driver's seat, and the urge is intense to push it to its limits, to see just how much it will take. Dex finds himself grinning as he accelerates to 70, then 75, along the highway heading south to Boston.  
  
Nursey's silent for the first several minutes of the trip, watching him closely. A year ago Dex would have been unnerved by the gaze. A year ago he might not have understood how Nursey enjoys watching him get excited and interested. But lately, the two of them have a moment like this every so often. It's always been fun to push each other's buttons, and they've finally realized it doesn't always have to be the anger button. Dex enjoys the car, and Nursey enjoys Dex enjoying it, and it's all okay.  
  
After a half-hour or so, though, Nursey gets fidgety. He pulls out his phone and fumbles for the USB cord plugged into the car.  
  
Dex glares at him. "Didn't anyone tell you the driver gets to pick the music?"  
  
"Mmm nope," Nursey says, hooking up his phone.  The speakers start blaring something loud and atonal.  
  
Dex tries to bat the phone out of his hand. "Stop that. It's too early in the morning for your music."  
  
"But not yours?"  
  
"Listen, my music is...."  
  
"Old. It's old as the hills, Poindexter."  
  
"It's timeless, shut up." Dex fiddles with the stereo until he finds FM radio, then tunes in to Boston's classic rock station. Mellencamp is on. Nursey makes a noise like a wounded animal. "Deal with it," Dex tells him, and they speed on down the highway to the story of Jack and Diane.  
  
It's two hours to get in and out of Boston, too many lanes with too many cars in them, even during a holiday weekend. But once Dex takes the exit to merge onto Route 3, things change. Route 3 is a skinny strip of highway, two lanes in either direction forever, and traffic doesn't clog the road the way it did on 95. They cruise at a comfortable 60 down past Marshfield and Plymouth, with the radio on to Skynrd and gorgeous changing trees all around them. The sun, high in the eastern sky, is bright white, and it beats down on the chrome of the car, a big gleaming spot reflected onto the windshield. Dex pulls down the eyeshade and squints at the road.  
  
"Does Route 3 go all the way to the Cape?" he asks.  
  
Nursey turns, momentarily baffled. "You've never driven to the Cape?"  
  
Dex shakes his head. "Couldn't afford it. We took the boat down into the northern part of the bay sometimes, but it's not like we had the money to rent a house down there."  
  
"We came down most summers," Nursey says. "Drove into Hyannis, took a ferry to the Vineyard. Nice place. Lots of frou-frou mansions and crap, but ya know, the beach was good. The boating."  
  
Dex is poised to say something about Nursey being totally comfortable around frou-frou types, but when Nursey says "boating" he loses his train of thought. For some reason, he was sure Nursey had never boarded a boat in his life.  
  
The image that comes to mind then is of a three-year-old Derek Nurse, way too small to even look over the edge without being boosted, tumbling over onto his rear end with every swell of the waves. It's simultaneously adorable and hilarious. "You had a boat?"  
  
"Speedboat," Nursey says. "Not one of the big yachts or anything. But, you know, big enough to go out and have a picnic, lie around in the sun." He muses a bit. "As a kid, I only liked it when the motor was going. When the engine cut out, I hated feeling the boat go back and forth and back and forth and back--"  
  
Nursey's bobbing his head to the side as he describes it. Dex laughs. "Stop it. You're gonna make me seasick."  
  
"You?" Nursey gives him an exaggerated gasp. "I didn't think you even _could_ get seasick."  
  
"Not often. But there were some choppy ones out there," Dex admits. "Summer storms blowing by. That kind of thing."  
  
"Did you puke over the side?" Nursey asks with some glee in his voice.  
  
Dex makes a face. "No. Gross."  
  
"I bet you did. I bet you hurled over the side of the boat."  
  
Nurse." Dex reaches over and swats him. "You're projecting."  
  
"I'm what now?"  
  
"Projecting," Dex repeats. "You think I did, because you did."  
  
"So what, I'm the one who puked?"  
  
"Definitely."  
  
"No, no I don't think so, Poindexter."  
  
"You did. You puked." Dex is trying hard not to laugh now. "You were a little kid on Mommy's boat and you made a huge mess right on the deck."  
  
Nursey is scrambling to save face. "Where is this even coming from, dude?"  
  
Dex shrugs. "Just a feeling."  
  
"A feeling? Dude. Chill. I know what happened on my own boat."  
  
Dex just tips his head to the side and smiles. It's one of Nursey's own I-know-something-you-don't smiles, reflected back at him. Serves him right. Let Nursey feel what it's like for once.

* * *

  
Sagamore Bridge, 2 miles, says the sign, and abruptly Nursey's sitting straight up in his seat, scouring the horizon. "Bet you ten bucks I see the bridge before you do."  
  
"I'm not taking that bet."  But Dex already thinks he sees it above the trees - a glimpse of silver.  
  
"You suck. Oh, oh, shit, I see it." Nursey grins wide and grabs the handhold on the passenger side door. "Oh, man, so fucking chill. That bridge. That _bridge,_ man."  
  
And Dex supposes, as they approach, that it's a pretty cool feat of architecture. A maze of metal criss-crosses, rising up in an arch beneath the November-blue sky. But nothing amazing. Nothing extraordinary. "It's a bridge," he says.  
  
"You don't get it yet," Nursey says. "You'll get it when you're over there. You'll get it on the way back."  
  
Dex peers at the bridge supports, the fence on either side as they round the rotary toward the approach. "What's to get?"  
  
"You'll see. You'll see." And now Nursey's sporting that damn beatific smile again. It's his turn, Dex figures. And as unimpressed as he is, he finds himself  curious. Whatever Nursey's saying he's gonna get, Dex wants to get it, too. He wants to know what's making Nursey glow so hard.  
  
Halfway over, Nursey relaxes against the seat with a sigh of contentment, like the bridge has just given him a killer blowjob. "There it is," he says, sounding stoned.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Like I said, Poindexter. You'll get it when you're on your way home."  
  
"Oh-kay," Dex intones, low and flat, and drives down the slope of the road onto the Cape proper.

* * *

  
"Take Route 6A," Nursey says, and Dex follows the signs. He finds himself not on a highway but on a long, wooded stretch of single-lane road. Trees rise up on either side, and a sign informs Dex that it's a historic roadway. White picket fences, old-style signposts, and the everpresent flaming trees pass by the windows.  Soon, amusing little buildings start popping up here and there, each one rustic and well-worn with New England weather. Antiques shops. Pottery studios. Little hole-in-the-wall restaurants. It reminds Dex of Maine, a little. The little back-country roads of Maine where tiny business cater to vacationing Bostonians and somehow stay afloat in the offseason. Only this is a different flavor somehow. Chocolate to Maine's vanilla.  
  
He catches himself thinking in metaphors and has to stifle a laugh. Nursey's been rubbing off on him.  
  
"Don't laugh," Nursey tells him. "It's nice."  
  
"It's ... what's the word for it ... too cute," Dex says.  
  
Nursey hazards a few guesses. "Quaint? Cliche? Kitschy?"  
  
Dex wags a finger. "That one."  
  
"I didn't even think you knew that word." It's hard to tell if Nursey's genuinely impressed, or if he's giving Dex shit.  
  
It doesn't really matter; Dex ignores the comment entirely. "But yeah," he says, "it's nice."  
  
The car's roar has faded to a kitten purr beneath him. They're not even going 40 miles an hour now, but Dex doesn't miss the speed, even in this machine built for it. It's too pleasant to just rumble along, noting every tree, reading aloud the names of some of the shops and restaurants. The road twists and turns. They pass a lake, a glen, a marsh. The seat is warm against his back.

* * *

  
At midday, Nursey suggests lunch, and Dex starts to scan the road for options. He finally turns off at a little roadside restaurant called Grumpy's.  Nursey has a good laugh. "It's named after you," he says.  
  
Dex hmphs. "Real original, Nurse."  
  
"No, seriously. Look, it even looks like you," Nursey says, pointing at the menu. Along with an uncannily large variety of food, it features the visage of an aged, frowning sailor.  
  
It looks nothing like Dex, but whatever. The place smells amazing, and it's bursting with people. After the waitress takes their order, Dex takes a moment to look around at the crowd. They've just beat the rush--the line appears to be out the door now. "Do all these people live here? Like, year-round?"  
  
"Pff, no way," Nursey says. "Tons of people do Thanksgiving on the Cape."  
  
"Why?" Dex takes another look. Some of the people here seem like salt-of-the-earth types, but yeah, many of them do look pretty yuppie. "If I had enough money to come here, I'd go somewhere warm in the winter."  
  
Nursey smiles. "You'll get it when you get it, Poindexter. Enjoying the car?"  
  
"Huh?" Dex processes the pivot in conversation.       
  
"The car," Nursey repeats. "Pretty sweet, isn't he?"  
  
Dex snorts. "The car's a he?"  
  
"Why not? Straight guys call their cars she."  
  
"Yeah, but that's-- you're--" The waitress arrives with their food. It may be the fastest Dex has ever been served outside of a McDonald's, and the portions are huge. Dex takes the opportunity to skirt the subject. "Anyway. _It_ is a pretty cool ride." He takes a thoughtful first bite of his clam chowder. It's warm, perfect comfort food, and something inside Dex relaxes. He settles back against the chair. "Never thought I'd get the chance to drive something like that. It's pretty 'swawesome."  
  
Nursey raises an eyebrow.  
  
Dex flushes. "What? You think I--you think--everybody dreams of driving a car like that."  
  
"Woulda thought you didn't." Nursey puffs up. "My name is Will Poindexter, and the only car I get a boner for is a pickup truck."  
  
"Fuck you, Nurse." Dex whaps him with a French fry. They're good. So's the sandwich, if it's of an ungodly size. So's the chowder. And Nursey's giant stack of banana pancakes looks pretty appetizing, too. If he has a complaint about the restaurant, it's that the tables are a little low and a little small. His knees keep bumping Nursey's, and every time it happens. Nursey looks him straight in the face and then away, like he's embarrassed by his own height.    
  
This time, Dex bumps his knees on purpose. Nursey looks at him, and Dex smirks in his direction. Nursey looks a little shell-shocked, then quickly averts his eyes.

* * *

  
They leave the restaurant full and happy. Nursey mumbles that he's gonna take a nap, and when they tuck themselves into the car, he tilts his seat back and closes his eyes. As for Dex, he's feeling strangely mellow, and he kind of wants to get behind the wheel and drive for hours and hours. Just him, music, and Nursey. For hours, for miles. What a weird thing, that Nursey fits right in there just as easily as the car and the music. He's an essential part of the equation, and Dex can't articulate why.  
  
He nudges Nursey. "Should we head back?"  
  
Nursey opens one eye and shrugs. "You gotta be home?"  
  
"Good point. I'll call." Dex pulls out his phone. He's dreading the sound of his dad on the line, dreading being pulled back to reality. This morning, this day, has been such a pleasant dream.  
  
The phone rings and rings. Nobody answers, which is unlike them. There should be a few hundred uncles in his house right now. Unless ... oh, God, yeah. They're probably out being ridiculous for Black Friday. Nothing like an overcrowded Wal-Mart in Maine. Dex is glad he's missed that part. He pockets the phone.  
  
"What's the verdict?" Nursey asks, eyes still closed.  
  
"Nothing. No answer."  
  
"Hm. Then it's up to you, dude. We could go home. Or we could keep on going. Up to P-town?"  
  
"Provincetown?" Dex knows a little about it. He knows that it's the city on the very end of the Cape, and a tourist destination. He also knows something about its reputation. He can imagine it being Nursey's kind of place. "I dunno."  
  
"I don't need the car back 'til tomorrow," Nursey says. "If you wanted to hang out in P-town for a bit, it'd be chill with me. Hell, we could see a show. Spend the night."  
  
Dex should be hesitating at this. Given the fact that he can't get in touch with his folks ... and he should at least be thinking about getting through Boston before rush hour clogs up the commute ...  
  
... oh, but this car underneath him makes him feel so powerful, so in charge. He realizes that Nursey hasn't asked to get behind the wheel once. Not this morning, not now. Nursey's perfectly okay with Dex driving, and he's cool with wherever Dex takes them. That's a lot of trust.  
  
"Yeah," he says, "we can drive up there. Why not."

* * *

  
They cruise Route 6A at an easy speed. On the way, they see a million little things that make them laugh, or make them smile. Roadside bookstores. Jungle gyms. Curio shops with strange statues parked out in front. All aroud them, the trees bloom bright red and orange, leaves flaming but not yet falling. The road is relatively quiet. Nursey makes a crack about everyone being at the mall in Hyannis for Black Friday. Dex doesn't know the town, but he sure as hell knows the sentiment. He's doubly glad for this drive for helping him dodge that bullet.  
  
The road angles up north toward Provincetown and bends toward the ocean. Dex opens his window more than halfway, though it lets in the November chill. The sea smells nice, and somehow it looks better when it's not behind glass. Every time he catches a glimpse of it--a flash of blue between houses--it feels like another point scored, like he's playing a game. How much water can he spy before he runs out of road?

And then, after they pass through Truro, they come to a stretch of road that makes him lose his breath. A gorgeous, still lake stretches out on one side; on the other, the ocean lies beyond a sparse row of houses. On either side, they're separated from endless blue by no more than a strip of grass, a handful of low buildings. It's magnificent, serene in a way he's never seen. Dex is aware of the flatness of the road and the water beneath the sky, the solitary hum of the car. It's just him, and Nursey, and the narrow road and the wide sky and the sea. Something squeezes tight in his heart.  
  
"Pull over a sec," Nursey urges him quietly, and Dex was already thinking of doing just that.  
  
They pull onto the shoulder of the road and get out. The wind is extra chilly here, with water on both sides, and the smell of the spray permeates the air. Dex takes low, long breaths, closes his eyes, and just listens to the surf. Nursey's presence next to him is a bright spot of warmth in the chilly landscape, the car behind them an anchor.  
  
They wander through someone's gravel driveway, hop a fence, and find their way down onto the sand. Nursey mentions that he's not sure if this is legal, this might be someone's private beach. But he doesn't stop or urge they go back. And Dex can feel the waves talking to him. _Come closer. Hear us. Watch us._ Like a siren call.  
  
They sit, shivering in the cold, for a few minutes without saying anything. Dex turns toward Nursey. His face is rapt, a small smile on his lips. Again, that smile, like he knows a secret. But this time Dex feels like he's been let in on the joke. He smiles a little himself.  
  
"Hey, Nurse," he says.  
  
Nursey tilts his head. "Hm."  
  
"Why me?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"You coulda gone cruising on your own with that car. Why'd you drive all the way up to Maine to get me?"  
  
"Seriously?" Nurse's brow is furrowed like he doesn't even get the premise of the question. "You're seriously asking me that?"  
  
"I thought you were gonna enjoy having a few days without me," Dex says with a grin.  
  
Nursey keeps frowning at him. "Dude," he says. "What did you think I'd do? Drive around all by my lonesome for a couple days? I had to have someone to share it with."  
  
"You mean 'show off to,'" Dex answers.  
  
"Yeah. Well." Nursey shrugs. "Seriously. It wouldn't be the same without ..." Confusion, or hesitance, flickers across his features for a moment. "... without someone there. You know what I mean?"  
  
His voice has faded to an almost-whisper. Dex half-whispers back. "Yeah. I know what you mean."  
  
Nursey's very close, Dex realizes, but the realization is like the dawning of a new day's sun. Slow, creeping, the kind that blankets you in warmth and light. He doesn't fight it, doesn't want to fight it. He leans in, shoulder bumping Nursey's, The closeness is comfortable. When the smile fades from Nursey's face, when he tilts his head just so and the distance between them starts to drain away, it still feels like the dawning sun. Inevitable. Welcome. Natural. Dex lets his eyelids droop.  
  
His phone rings.  
  
Dex jumps with a curse. Nursey bursts out laughing.  
  
Turns out it's his dad calling. And Dad isn't happy. _It's three in the afternoon,_ he says, and _you said you'd be gone for a few hours._ And _when are you going to be back_ , and _did you just say you were on the Cape?_  
  
Dex hangs up with a sigh. "I think I gotta head home."  
  
"Shit," Nursey says, "did you get in trouble?"  
  
"Yeah. They're gonna read me the riot act when I get home."  
  
"Sorry, man," says Nursey.  
  
Dex shakes his head and smiles. "I'm not."  
  
Nursey stares at him a second, then grins in answer.

* * *

  
So they head back. And as they drive west on Route 6 toward the bridge, Dex realizes he's dreading the moment they go over it. Once they mount that slope to the apex of the bridge, they'll be officially no longer on the Cape. Their time on this hallowed ground will be over.  
  
He gets it now. The way Nursey sighed as they crossed the bridge this morning, the way all the tension seemed to melt out of him in a rush. It must be an amazing feeling to drive over the bridge, knowing what awaits you.  Knowing you're entering an enchanted land. But now, driving over the bridge feels like losing something, and Dex gives a little sigh as they finally cross. He already wants it back.  
  
"See?" Nursey says, but he's not lording it over Dex--it's said quietly, with sympathy.  
  
Dex nods. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah."

* * *

  
Up Route 3 toward Boston, and at 4 p.m. the sun is already starting to dip. They merge onto 95 and start heading north toward Maine.  
  
The trees are brilliant around them, dipped as they are in gold from the low-burning sun. Dex is content. There's a bone-deep, soul-deep happiness in him now that he's rarely ever felt. It's perfect, this moment. This light. This scenery, and, yeah, this company. Dex is no poet, but he figures this would be a moment to write a poem.  
  
He glances at Nursey. "Shouldn't you be, like, writing sonnets about trees?"  
  
Nursey muses on it for a minute. "Hmm. Naw."  
  
"Why not? Not inspired by leaves anymore?"  
  
This draws a chuckle out of Nursey. "It's not that, man. It's more like ... I can write any old day. But I can only have this ..." and he pats his lap softly with one hand. "This moment, right here. I can only have this now. I don't need anything else."  
  
His gaze catches Dex's. And Dex sees something in Nursey's eyes that he's never seen before.  
  
Maybe it's been there, and maybe he just hasn't noticed. He sure as hell notices now. His heart skips out an uneven drumbeat in his ribs. Oh. _Oh_. Okay, then.

* * *

  
It's 7 p.m., and dark, by the time they roll back up to Dex's house. Dex's heart sinks in dismay at the sight of it. He likes home, he likes his family, but...  
  
He leans heavily on the steering wheel, "I don't wanna go in," he admits.  
  
Nursey sucks in a hissing breath through his teeth. "Yeah," he says, "I 'm  not jealous of the hell you're gonna catch in there, man."  
  
"That's not the problem," Dex says, and he tilts his head to look at Nursey. "I..." and maybe he shouldn't say it, maybe he'll be laughed at, but it's _Nursey,_ and it's okay with Nursey. Everything's okay with him. "I don't want today to be over."  
  
"Hmm. Yeah, man, I dig." Nursey muses. "We could drive around Maine a couple more hours?"  
  
Dex laughs. "No. It's okay." He turns off the engine, feels the car still beneath him. It's been a privilege, driving this car all day. He's grateful. "Thank you."  
               
"Dude, no problem. Hey, we'll do P-town for sure next time. Okay?"  
  
"Yeah." They sit there, in the quiet car, unmoving. Dex needs to get out. He needs to say goodbye to Nursey and head in and face the music. But Nursey isn't moving, and, for the moment, neither is Dex. "Anyway. You have to drive back."  
  
"Yeah. Okay." Nursey sounds more dejected than anything. He undoes his seatbelt, shifts toward the door.  
  
Dex takes a hurried breath. "Nurse."  
  
Nursey turns back. "Hm?"  
  
Nursey trusted him with this car. Nursey trusted him to go all the way to Cape Cod and back. Nursey has trusted him with a million little secrets, a million intimacies. The sharing of a year of his life.  
  
Nursey will trust him with this.  
  
Dex leans over the gearshift. Brushes his mouth against Nursey's. Just briefly. Just once.  
  
Nursey blinks at him.  
  
Dex smiles, undoes his seatbelt, and gets out of the car. There's a pause before he hears the passenger side door open, and the silence sounds like triumph.  
  
Nursey rounds the car and stops just short of Dex, staring at him in the dimness. "Yeah?" he says, and his voice is rough, unruly at the edges.  
  
"Yeah." Dex knows he's smirking, but he can't wipe the expression off his face.  
  
"Wow," Nursey says. And then, "Chill," because it's Nursey.  
  
Dex stares at him, at the slow, wide smile dawning on his lips, and feels his heart leap. It's heady, this confidence, this feeling like he's poised at the begining of something amazing. It's heady to know that he took the first step. Dex is a little drunk with it. "We'll have some things to talk about when I get back."  
  
"Uh." Nursey looks at his feet. "Yeah."  
  
Dex reaches out and touches his hip, fingers skimming over his belt loops. Nursey's eyes light up, and he leans in.  
  
Dex dodges. "My family's probably watching," he mutters, by way of explanation.  
  
"Oh. Okay. Yeah, chill. Um." Nursey eyes the open car door. Dex steps aside to let him climb in.  
  
Nursey closes the car door behind him, rolls down the window. Dex leans over. "We'll do Provincetown next time," he says.  
  
His family can't see from this angle. So this time, Dex doesn't dodge. Nursey's kiss is both a question and a promise.  
  
"Yeah," Dex says to both. His own voice sounds a little raw.  
  
He stands up straight. Nursey gives a wave.  
  
The car goes growling away.  Dex watches, then turns and heads inside. It's going to be a pain in the ass dealing with the fallout, but he doesn't care. He has miles and miles stretching out ahead of him.


End file.
